


When You're Needed

by aiIenzo



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 04:32:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aiIenzo/pseuds/aiIenzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: "After Gavin's fathers death, he doesn't want to talk to anybody. But Michael, being his best friend, still talks to Gavin. One day when they are sitting on the couch Michael pulls Gavin into a hug and confesses how much he loves him and how he's loved him all along. You can decide whether Gavin replies and feels the same or not! ^.^"</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You're Needed

**Author's Note:**

> I made this so cheesy I almost threw up. Thanks to team-noice-dynamite on tumblr for the prompt.

It had been on the 21st of January. About 2 PM. The clamor of lunch was still high, and spirits were infectious as the office buzzed with happy activity. Michael was trying to work, really he was, but Ray kept narrating his game and Gavin kept laughing in response, and Geoff and Jack, arguing, joking, it was all too much to keep a smile off of Michael’s face.

But in the general atmosphere, Gavin’s phone began to ring, and he took a few seconds knocking game cases and markers off of his desk before finding it, unlocking it and pressing it to his ear.

But as Michael watched, Gavin’s smile melted, and his face sank. Slowly, the light and laughter behind his eyes faded, and the grip on his phone grew desperate.

"Guys," Michael said softly, and the room went quiet, heads turning to locate the point of Michael’s concern and landing on Gavin, who had slowly begun to shake.

Words came out of Gavin’s mouth, soft, unintelligible, and his eyes shot up to meet Michael’s, filled with nothing but fear, shock, and helplessness. Michael stood up immediately, but Geoff was quicker, taking Gavin’s hand with a look of such concern that it terrified Michael, who felt ripples of terror run through his body. 

"Is it your dad?" Geoff had whispered, and at that moment, the tears fell from Gavin’s eyes. Michael could hear the faint, tired sobs of a woman on the other end of the line, and with a sick punch in the gut that shot his nerves to shit, he recognized the sound as Gavin’s mother.

Geoff had turned and led Gavin’s shaking form outside, shooting Michael a quick look that told him to stay there.

Michael sat. Terrified. Conerned. Watching the door close behind Gavin was a sight he had never liked, but he had enough sense to wait until he was needed. There was a beat of silence.

"What’s wrong with Gavin’s dad?" Jack asked quietly, and there was a pitch of worry in his voice.

"He’s been really sick," Ray muttered, leaning back in his chair. His eyes were soft again, the amusement lost and the carelessness replaced by a grim demeanor. "In and out of the hospital for the past few months. They were keeping him steady but…"

Ray’s words trailed into a deep silence that lasted nearly twenty minutes as they waited, chairs squeaking in the unusual quiet. Michael’s mind was racing, and he couldn’t be bothered to put his headphones back on and continue trying to work. Jack and Ray were along the same lines, sitting silent in their chairs and trying not to meet the others’ eyes.

Finally, Geoff returned, but he was alone.

"Griffon’s come to pick him up. He didn’t want to stay."

"What happened?" Michael asked immediately, thinking only of how soon he could contact Gavin. How soon he’d be able to give whatever comfort was needed.

Geoff ran a hand through his hair, and Michael noticed his eyes were red as well.

"Gavin’s dad passed. He went quietly in his sleep, less than an hour ago. Gavin’s… well he won’t be in for a bit." Geoff paused, and for the first time, he looked so lost. So out of control of the situation. "Actually, I’m going to go home too. You can stay or leave if you want, I don’t care today."

"Can we see him?"

Michael was already stuffing his wallet into his pants and pulling on his jacket, and Geoff shrugged.

"You can call him. I don’t think he wants to see anyone though. He’ll probably be on a flight back home by tomorrow."

 

                                                                                                                                               —-

 

Michael did call him. Several times. By the time he was unlocking the door to his apartment, Gavin had ignored his fifth call, and Michael figured he ought to give it a rest. He tried to imagine himself in Gavin’s position, tried to figure out what  _he_  would want from his friends, if this was happening to him, but it just made Michael feel worse.

He turned his phone up full volume and kept it beside him for the remainder of the day.

 

                                                                                                                                                —-

 

At 6AM, it finally rang. Michael shot up, fumbling for his glasses and peering at the screen, feeling his heart rise when ‘Gav’ appeared in large letters across the top. He immediately unlocked it and pressed it to his ear.

"Gavin?"

"Michael, hey."

Gavin’s voice was hoarse, soft and broken, like the sweet sound Michael was used to hearing had hardened and cracked, leaving splinters and shells of a something that had once been so beautiful.

"Hey. I tried calling you."

It was stupid. That was a stupid thing to say, and Michael felt so bad, but he didn’t know what to do. What would Gavin want to hear?

"I know. I’m sorry I just… didn’t feel like talking to anyone."

"No no no," Michael tried, getting up and trying to find pants, hoping that maybe, now, he’d be able to see Gavin. Maybe he could go over. "It’s fine. I understand. I just wanted you to know that I was here, if you need me. I could come over now, if you need. If you want, I mean."

He was fumbling over his words. He didn’t want to do anything wrong, make this conversation shorter than it was likely to be

"It’s okay, Michael. I’m at the airport already. I just wanted to call and say bye, before I left."

Michael’s hands, which had been pulling on his jeans, faltered. He felt disappointment seeping through him.

"Right. Okay. Do you know how long you’ll be gone?"

There was a drop of silence, before—

"No."

"Right. I’m sorry Gavin, that was a dumb question. Fuck, I’m idiot, dude. I’m sorry."

"No, it’s okay Michael, I—"

"I really wanted to see you before you left. I wanted to be there for you."

There was a shift on the phone, and Michael could almost hear the faint, sad smile that graced Gavin’s tired face.

"You’re always there for me."

Michael smiled sadly, because it he knew it would be several weeks before he saw Gavin again. Maybe longer. But as far as goodbyes go, he guessed it wasn’t that bad.

"Have a safe flight, Gav. I’ll miss you."

"I’ll miss you too, Michael."

                                                 

                                                                                                                                                —-

 

It took Gavin over five weeks to return home, and in that time, Michael had become increasingly more uncomfortable. He awaited Gavin’s calls with baited breath, becoming snippy and pissy with anyone that bothered him before he had spoken to Gavin that day. When he wasn’t jumping down someone’s throat, he would sit quietly at his desk, mind churning and face solemn. The room would speak quietly during this time, trying to avoid driving Michael out of this state and back into another bitchfest.

He had also taken to calling his parents more often, which, he thought shamefully, he should have been doing initially. When Gavin left, he realized he hadn’t spoken to his own father in over a month. He couldn’t even remember what their last conversation had been about, and the thought weighed heavy on his heart.

It made Michael realize how deeply Gavin must be hurting.

The first time Gavin had called him, Michael had to work to understand the words behind the tears, the hitching breath. The second week was shallow, empty words from a tired boy, broken and lost and energy sapped. The third week had gone better. Someone in the family organized a party several days after the funeral, where home videos were played and stories were shared, and when Gavin had called Michael, there was an upbeat edge to his voice, fueled by happy, thankful friends and family. The fourth week, Gavin was was quiet again, but the helplessness had been replaced with a sad acceptance, and the fifth week, he called to tell Michael he was coming home. 

It was around this time that Michael learned he was Gavin’s only main correspondent. He would text Ray now and again, and Geoff would call once or twice a week, but daily exchanges were saved only for Michael, and despite how badly he wanted to focus on healing Gavin, he couldn’t help but feel that small warmth in his heart.

                                                   

                                                                                                                                                   —-

 

Gavin’s return was subdued, as he asked everyone to act like he’d never been gone. Things fell into place easily, with jokes being exchanged after the waters were tested, and the function in their room was back to normal.

Now and then, though, Gavin would become quiet, eyes drifting far and his fingers slowing on the keyboard until they came to a stop, hovering over keys as he replayed memories Michael could only imagine.

At these time, Michael would move slightly, just enough to place his hand on Gavin’s knee, running his thumb along the denim until movement gradually returned to Gavin’s limps, and he would smile at Michael through the redness in his eyes, the only sign that could betray his resolve.

 

\---

 

Weeks passed, and Gavin was spending more time wrapped up in blankets in Michael’s apartment, drinking something warm and wearing that beautiful smile. Sometimes they played games, sometimes they watched shitty Netflix movies, and other times, Gavin would cry. Michael would be silent for hours, letting Gavin wordlessly mourn into his shoulder until his eyes ran dry and the rise and fall of his chest was even, pure exhaustion settling in until Gavin fell into a quiet sleep.

On these nights, Michael wouldn’t leave the room to sleep in his bed. He pulled whatever blankets he had left and slept on the floor by the couch, letting Gavin’s steady breathing drift him into sleep.

Gavin would never mention it, and neither would Michael, but the look in Gavin’s eyes the next morning said more than words ever could.

 

                                                                                                                                                     —-

It had been four months since his father’s death, and Gavin had taken to riding home with Michael after work and staying the night, skipping the few pointless hours he’d have been at the Ramsey’s. There was a small collection of Gavin’s belongings growing on Michael’s bed, which remained relatively unused as they opted to make forts in the living room and sleep there instead. Gavin never asked if Michael minded. Of course, Michael never did.

It was raining outside, and cold air pressed against the windows and overwhelmed the sounds of a furious Peggle contest. Finally, Michael made tea (for which Gavin teased him relentlessly and Michael refused to admit he liked the taste), and they sat quietly, listening to the rain beat against the windows.

"It’s a shame, really," Gavin mumbled, staring out the window with eyes that had suddenly gone glassy, a look Michael was used to the past few months.

"What’s a shame?"

"My dad, you know," Gavin said quietly, and Michael took a drink, settling himself in. As much pain as Gavin was in, Michael liked when he spoke of his father. There was a hint of admiration in his voice, and Michael enjoyed the smiles that would creep on Gavin’s face when he’d relive a memory.

"He was such a great person, and he’s gone. It’s like… he had so much to give to the world, and he never got the recognition he deserved."

Michael moved up and sat next to Gavin on the couch. He may have been too close, his leg pressed against the boy next to him, but Gavin didn’t mind. He never did. Michael let him continue, listening, staying quiet.

"He was such an inspiration. He helped me do everything, encouraged me with whatever stupid thing I was into at the time. He called me names and laughed at me and he used to embarrass me in front of my friends but he was so perfect, you know? He just loved everyone and everything."

Tears will filling Gavin’s eyes now, and Michael felt his heart swell. He wanted nothing more than to touch him, pull him into his arms, tell him he loved him. He was torn between listening to Gavin’s voice, listening to him talk about everything he loves, and letting him know how much he was loved in return.

"He gave so many beautiful things to the world," Gavin finished quietly, "And now that he’s gone, it feels like… like all those beautiful things are gone, too."

And before he could stop himself, Michael had reached up and wiped the tears from Gavin’s eyes before they could imprint across his cheeks.

"That’s not true," Michael said, letting his hand rest on Gavin’s face, unwilling to move it now that he had contact. "you’re still here, aren’t you?"

And Gavin’s eyes, so bright and welcoming, widened just a bit, his lips parted ever so slightly as his breath hitched, focused entirely on Michael’s words. Michael smiled, because it was just so perfect.

"I never met your father in person, but I wish I could. I wish I could thank him for all the wonderful, beautiful things he gave to this world." Michael paused, running his thumb across Gavin’s cheek. "I wish I could thank him for giving me you."

Gavin forced his eyes shut as tears fell, but there was a smile on his face and a breathy laugh and he finally exhaled, having held his breath all through Michael’s softly spoken words. Michael seized his opportunity and held Gavin’s face between his hands gently, waiting until Gavin had opened his eyes and blinked through the tears before he placed a soft kiss to the corner of Gavin’s lips.

"I love you, Gavin."

Gavin’s eyes lit up, sparks of realization and love burning so vividly in his mind that Michael swore he could see it through the brightness in Gavin’s eyes. And suddenly, he melted, falling into Michael’s arms and pressing his body against every part of Michael he could reach, grip tight as he shook with tears.

And Michael held him back, tight, willing this moment to never end, praying that, for the first time since he had laid eyes on Gavin, he wasn’t merely dreaming this moment. He buried his face into Gavin’s neck, feeling the warmth spread through him.

"I’ve always love you, Gav. Always."

And they stayed like that for so long, Gavin’s arms wrapped around Michael, hands pressing into his back, urging him closer, until finally he pulled back, pressing his forehead against Michael’s with the biggest smile Michael had seen from him in months.

"Well, your rage quiet videos  _were_  always dad’s favorites.”

Michael grinned. “See? He’d have liked me. Those videos portray all my finer qualities.”

But Gavin placed his hand on Michael’s cheek, leading him into a soft, gentle kiss, nothing but acceptance and relief, and when Gavin finally pulled back, the smile on his face was so genuine, so beautiful, that Michael felt his heart stop. Gavin looked at him, meeting his eyes and reaching down to tangle their fingers together.

"I don’t think those videos do you justice, love."

 

 


End file.
